


Till dawn do us part

by wawalux



Series: More words than work [6]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Foggy Nelson, Bisexual Matt Murdock, Boys In Love, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Foggy Nelson Is a Good Bro, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, Love Confessions, M/M, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson Friendship, POV Foggy Nelson, Protective Foggy Nelson, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wawalux/pseuds/wawalux
Summary: Matt is invisible in the quiet way he slinks back into reality, announces his return with the sharp growl of a zipper hastily undone to shed the devil from his skin. The sound alone rouses Foggy from his half-hearted slumber, while something akin to the softness of a summer breeze chases the torrent of ice from his veins. The crests of the waves overlapping like a tempest in his gut settle to white foam, splash gentler against the raw edges of his worry. He strains his ears to capture any hitch in Matt’s breath, any hint of a movement contained, breathes deeper to search for the sour taste of copper trapped in between the wintry city air, tongue poised to find that all telling tartness subtler than tannins in a wine.[OR: Just another night. Foggy waits for the devil to come home.]
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Series: More words than work [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888111
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	Till dawn do us part

**Author's Note:**

> Found myself awake at 2 AM with words buzzing in my head. Decided to wake Foggy up too.

Matt is invisible in the quiet way he slinks back into reality, announces his return with the sharp growl of a zipper hastily undone to shed the devil from his skin. The sound alone rouses Foggy from his half-hearted slumber, while something akin to the softness of a summer breeze chases the torrent of ice from his veins. The crests of the waves overlapping like a tempest in his gut settle to white foam, splash gentler against the raw edges of his worry. He strains his ears to capture any hitch in Matt’s breath, any hint of a movement contained, breathes deeper to search for the sour taste of copper trapped in between the wintry city air, tongue poised to find that all telling tartness subtler than tannins in a wine.

_He's home, he’s home. Matt’s home._ The realization is like a mantra that even he can’t believe. He tells his lungs, tries to convince them to inflate better than popped balloons, rising unsteadily and then leaking air before they can grow to their full shape.

Feline footsteps ripple delicate waves of silence as Matt makes his way to bed, arrives in the piercing gust of wintry air that replaces the sleepy warmth under the covers. There’s a sharp tug of fabric from Foggy’s shoulders and the tell-tale groan of the mattress under Matt’s weight before Matt all but flings himself against Foggy’s back, burrows deep against his skin and the contrast is fire and ice.

The chapped skin of his lips is crisp against Foggy’s bare back, flaky but soft, like the puff pastry of his favorite croissants from the bodega on fifth. They land in the semblance of a muted kiss, chilly lips and small wafts of warm humid air, leave lipstick-shaped glowing imprints that make the small hairs at the end of Foggy’s neck stand to attention. Matt nestles a sand-paper cheek against the patch that is still stinging from the cold, takes a deep breath of Foggy’s hair. His icy claws crawl unabashedly under Foggy’s t-shirt to fondle the heat from the center of his belly. Matt laughs a short fiery breeze when Foggy squirms.

He scuttles further, erases the space between them until Foggy feels like he is being spooned by a rod of metal that was forgotten in the fridge. He shivers and tries to breathe, teeth clattering through the anguish and back arching for an inch of reprieve. Matt twists the way only a ninja could, chases Foggy’s heat and laughs a rumble that makes his belly hiccup against Foggy’s back when Foggy whimpers.

Foggy caves first, sighs or grumbles or both and turns to trap Matt’s grubby mitts. Matt’s faster, as always, takes advantage of Foggy’s loosened hold to create a blanket fort that leaves Foggy scrambling like he’s just been plunged into a frozen lake. Matt’s muted laughter streams from the seams, teases Foggy with hints of warmth.

“Matt,” Foggy whines helplessly, yanking at every inch of the covers that shut him out like a concrete wall.

“Say please,” Matt’s voice is muffled and cocky and shaped like a smile. It melts something in Foggy’s heart, maybe a beat into the next, or maybe the silence in his chest.

“Please.”

The top of Matt’s head emerges in the faint light, hair ruffled and messy except for the bits that are still sealed into his sweaty forehead by the imprints of the devil’s mask. Foggy’s fingers twitch at the thought of tracing the dents in Matt’s skin, at his desire to map out every inch of the boy until he can tell his worried heart that Matt is whole. He’s learned to still them though, places them carefully against his chest as he rubs friction into desperate heat.

“Please?” he says again, teeth chattering. Stupidly high ceilings steal every ounce of homeliness from Matt’s place, and Foggy makes it his personal mission to reintroduce some heat into their lives, whether it be from the steam that seeps into the night from a waiting cup of tea or from the imprint of a warm body waiting edgily in his bed.

The outline of Matt’s clenched fist disappears from the blankets and Foggy doesn’t waste a second to snuggle back into their safety, covers them to the tops of their heads, enveloped like they can leave the world behind. They twist into each other like uncooked pretzels, knees between thighs and ankles on calves, trading warmth more aggressively than stockbrokers.

Matt’s smile is invisible to Foggy’s eyes, but Foggy feels it shift against his collarbone when he places a gentle kiss on Matt’s salty brow. His swollen knuckles stroke the length of Foggy’s jaw, scabs pulling at his growing stubble. They speak the tale of an easy night, of bloodshed that remained in the enemy camp. Foggy tries to convince his heart not to beat in relief but it’s hard when he feels like he just remembered how to breathe. His arms inch around Matt’s back, fingers combing through his locks while Matt settles his face into Foggy’s chest, digits gripping at the fabric with a sigh that begs to never be let go.

Dawn will bring another day, and with that the promise of the night, of a man who merged his soul with the devil’s and was taught to forget how to love. Daylight will pass in a blur, gifted moments that Foggy won’t know how to treasure, hourglass spilling grains of sand faster than he can catch them until there are none left. Matt will leave Foggy faster than sunlight leaves the day, with a chaste kiss to his cheek and a hand squeeze that makes vows it can’t keep.

Every night Foggy wishes he knew how to pray, how to believe in a God that has the power to keep Matt safe. He wanders the apartment filling increments of time with menial activities that disappear from his mind the second they are done, sleeps in stops and starts, tries to forget that he awaits the verdict of life. Every night he only realizes how empty he feels when Matt’s arrival finally fills him up.

It’s too soon in their newfound relationship for Foggy to say the words that are bubbling out of his lips, he knows that. It’s too soon when each kiss still feels like their first, when their roaming hands can’t still at the feel of each other’s skin. It’s too soon when Matt reacts to affection like to heat from a stove, burning before he warms, shies away from its brightness. It’s too soon, and still Foggy loves Matt like this, in hidden whispers against sleepy ears and a heart that shudders in his chest while he waits for the devil to come back.

He mumbles it in Matt’s hair tonight, three words that tickle as his breath shivers through the strands. He murmurs it instead of sleeping, his free hand curling against Matt’s neck like it can snatch and inch out of right now, like he can hold it until it becomes forever. But Matt is already asleep, snuffed out between one breath and the next, like the fleeting flame of a birthday candle on a cake. Foggy says it anyways, hopes it will coat Matt’s skin and seep into his pores, hopes it will be enough of a reminder to carry him home.

“I love you, Matty,” Foggy repeats under his breath, feels Matt shift in his sleep, his fingers clasp reflexively into Foggy’s chest, ear rubbing against his bumping heartbeats.

Dawn will bring another day, swollen eyelids and too much coffee and a Matt that won’t understand how Foggy got so little sleep when they went to bed at the same time. Foggy will stifle his answer in a yawn so big that even Matt’s super senses won’t be able to catch it.

Foggy won’t say he was too busy loving Matt to let another moment get robbed by sleep. Foggy won’t explain that he memorized the feel of Matt against his skin. Foggy won’t tell him the three little words that Matt doesn’t know how to hear.

Foggy won’t say and Matt will wonder about the lies stumbling out of his pulse.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what that even was, but I hope you enjoyed it either way.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> (I now stumble through tumblr - come say hi! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wawaluxthings )


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